


Once Is Never Enough

by Daiako (Achrya)



Series: Raya's Fic A Day [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fingering, Come Marking, Consensual Underage Sex, Creampie, Dual Sex Omegas, Frottage, Guilt, M/M, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Somnophilia, Vaginal Sex, Weecest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27822514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Daiako
Summary: Summary: When Sam presented as Omega everything changed.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Raya's Fic A Day [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036023
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	Once Is Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> My first Fic a Day offering, where I attempt to take an hour a day to just write something, anything, and then accept it for what it is without shit talking myself or my writing (This actually took 93 minutes, but I digress.) I have a very clear vision for where this is going and will end up (sex, duh) so try not to worry about the ??

If, three years ago, someone had told Dean he would take his brother’s virginity like this, on their sides under a scratchy motel blanket, pressed together so close there was no space between them, all sweat and mingled scents and his mouth on Sammy’s swollen scent gland, he would have beaten that person so badly they’d be drinking their food for the rest of their life. If someone had said it to him two years ago he would have still kicked their ass, yeah, but he would have done it with a sinking feeling in his stomach. 

When Sammy presented as omega things changed. Of course. Dean had taken sex ed and done his secondary sex chapter just like everyone else did, he knew all the important details. All omegas presented, outwardly, like boys until they matured; only rich families who sprung for voluntary x-rays knew what their kid was going to be and it went without saying that John Winchester was not that kind of parent. After an omega ‘bloomed’, as Dean’s creepy alpha sex ed teacher had said while leering at the lone omega in the class, their outside would better match their insides, distinguishing them from betas and alphas in various ways, and their scents would come in properly. 

They changed. 

Dean knew that. He had even taken a few omegas to bed in his time (and betas and even a female alpha once, just to see how it went) so he had seen the ways they were different up close and in person. He’d pressed his nose into warm, soft skin and breathed in temptingly sweet scents and tasted the bitter sugar of omega slick, felt them get hard and wet and come apart under his hands. He knew all about omegas. 

But when Sammy presented it threw him. He’d taken for granted that his brother would be an alpha, like he was, like their father was, like their mother had been. You had to have an omega parent to be an omega, or so he’d thought because admittedly genetics weren’t his strong suit and the fact that he’d had omega grandparents on both sides wasn’t something anyone had ever shared with him. He didn’t know that two alphas could both carry the omega gene and that every now and then it would present itself. He hadn’t suspected that when Sammy started whining about not feeling good one night while they were crammed into a motel room in New Mexico that it would lead to everything turning upside down. 

If he thought back on it he remembered waking up in the middle of the night, nose full of the most amazing sweet mint scent, mouth watering, cock hard enough to pound nails. He remembered stumbling to the bathroom door and hearing Sammy on the other side, crying. He remembered trying the door and, finding it locked, shouting for his brother to let him in. He remembered the bone deep, all consuming need to get in there, get to the source of that smell, to taste it. He remembered pounding on the door, yanking on the knob, growling and snarling even as part of him acknowledged that Sam, his baby brother who he was supposed to be protecting, was crying louder and begging him to go away. 

He did not remember his dad waking up, realizing what was happening, and wrestling him to the ground while he bit and snarled like a wild animal, or the chokehold that knocked him out. He knows that when he came to he was in a different motel, down the highway, alone except for a note from his dad telling him to get his shit together and that he’d be back for him in a few days. Away from his brother Dean had been able to think clearly, and to realize that he’d fucked up. 

It was not normal to be affected by an omega’s heat if you were related, and it didn’t get much more related than him and Sammy. The proof was in how their dad hadn’t been moved by Sammy’s scent and had been able to keep a clear head. You just didn’t nearly pop a knot in your shorts over your little brother, it didn’t work that way. 

Shouldn’t work that way. 

They didn’t talk about it. John and Sam showed up a few days later, Dean quietly slid into the seat next to his dad and avoided looking at Sam, and other than a long hard look from their father there was no further acknowledgement. What could be said really, except that Dean was broken somehow and had gone full violent knothead over his own brother? 

Everything changed. He and Sammy didn’t share the bed anymore, Dean regulated to sharing with their dad or, on the bad temper soaked in whiskey nights, crashed on the floor or a chair or if he was lucky a couch. There was no more casually walking into the bathroom while Sammy was there, no more walking around in just their boxers, no more sparring or crowding together on the bed to watch tv, no more leaning over Sammy’s shoulder while he did his homework. No more leaving Dean to watch Sammy while their dad went on long hunts; now Dean went along as well and Sam was trusted to watch himself. He was never around for Sam’s heats; something always needed killing a few states away when that time rolled around. 

Dean backed off, always under their father’s watchful eye, and Sam pulled away. 

It was better that way, Dean told himself, because whatever was broken in him wasn’t getting better. He noticed things he knew he shouldn’t, like how Sam’s scent wasn’t as sugary sweet as other omegas, but fresh and sharp, cool mint on the back of Dean’s tongue, and that the suppressant’s his brother took gave it a slightly sour tang. He saw Sam growing, clearly not going to be one of those tiny omegas that covered magazines and were all over the tv, and watched every change with greedy fascination. 

His brother was nothing like the omegas Dean had fucked before, the kind of presented as feminine or androgynous, who played up their pretty faces and soft curves and cooed about how big and strong Dean was. Sam wasn’t going to end up with a nice rack, for starters, but as the roundness left Sammy’s face he grew softer around the hips and ass, added muscle to his thighs. He was broad at the shoulders, long in his limbs with stupidly big hands and feet, and it was awkward because he still had more growing to do, but it was good in a way Dean knew he shouldn’t be aware of. His hair grew out, shaggy and thick, and their dad didn’t get on him to get it anymore, just barked at him to keep it back when he shot and sparred. 

He was pretty in his own way, pouty lips and wide eyes with thick lashes, but it was a different kind of pretty. Nothing Dean had ever thought he’d want, until he wanted it so bad it burned him from the inside. 

They all knew he was fucked up, and they just worked around it for years. Dean assumed they would keep doing it, just like they were, forever, and he was...it was…

He accepted it. Had to, to keep his family close. It had never been stated but he knew his father wouldn't hesitate to take Sammy away from him if it meant keeping Sam safe. Protecting Sam was always their dad’s first priority, if was the first and more important order he’d given Dean, the one he’d repeated over and over until it was as much a part of Dean as his skin. If Dean was ever what his brother needed protected from John would have them packed and gone within an hour, and he’d never let Dean get within a state of them again. 

They would still talk, he and his dad, and John would send him on hunts and research with him over the phone, might even come around to help, but Sam would never be with him. That door would slam in Dean’s face and wouldn’t open again. He knew that, even though it had never been said out loud. 

He knew better than to ever ever go *there*. 

But knowing seemed to mean very little when it all came to ahead. 

It happened like this. Three years after Sammy popped omega he and their dad fought. They fought all the time of course, had been for three long years with Dean doing his best to play peacekeeper without stepping over the line, but this was different. Sam didn’t want to go along on a hunt, just a little ghost haunt in North Dakota, they could have left on that Saturday and been back for Sammy to get to class on Tuesday. He had a project due and it was a quarter of his grade and he didn’t need to go on some stupid hunt anyway. 

John had shouted back, pushing into Sam’s person space and glowering down at him as he backed the omega in a literal corner. Sam was getting rusty and not focusing on the important things, he needed the field experience. How was some high school project going to keep him safe from monsters? Did Sam even know just how many things out there liked to snatch omegas? Werewolves, who loved to keep them as toys, pass them around between the alphas until their bodies gave out. Shapeshifters, who stole omegas to breed when they couldn’t find any of their own kind, and it was here that Dean had gotten involved, grabbing his dad by the arm to pull him away. 

He never put his hands on his father, even when John got so drunk he saw Dean as an alpha in her territory and a threat to be dealt with, and he sure as hell never got in his face and hissed for him to back off, because he was going too far. 

His father didn’t leave him alone with Sam anymore but he had then, face twisting into something unreadable as he jerked free of Dean’s grip. He’d grabbed up his bag, slapped a wad of bills on top of the tv, and left without another word, leaving Dean, Sam, and the stifling tension in the room behind. It wasn’t until Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala fade that he dared to move, rounding on his little brother and saying, without thought, the same thing he always said. 

“He didn’t mean any of that.” 

Sam laughed, breathy and shaking. “Right, he was just listing all the things that might want to snatch and gang rape me for fun. What omega doesn’t like being reminded that everyone thinks they’re weak and defenseless?” 

“Sammy-” 

“Don’t.” Sam pushed away from the wall, glaring. “Don’t. Just...I’m going to get ready for bed.” 

“Yeah.” Dean said to his brother’s back, to the bathroom door when it slammed behind Sam. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Yeah.” 

\---

He woke up all at once, slipped from sleep to awareness and had a hand under his pillow, around his gun, before he even fully registered what had woken him. He relaxed when Sam’s scent filled his nose and the extra weight on the bed fully sank in. “Sammy-”

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Sam asked, crawling closer. Dean saw him as a shadowy outline and the two, dark glittering points, moving up from the foot of the bed. “I...had a nightmare.”

It was as natural as breathing to roll to the side and lift his blanket for Sam to slip under and settled down, faced away from him, as easy to draw the blanket back up over them as it was to pull the trigger when faced with a monster. It was like he’d never stopped doing it, like there was three years between now and the last time, like Sammy was a sweet faced twelve without a care in the world as he murmured his thanks. Dean turned away, so they were back to back, and closed his eyes. 

“I think...That stuff dad said, I guess it got into my head.” Sammy said, whisper soft in the quiet of the motel room. “He acts like he’s so worried, but you’re always leaving me alone, for weeks sometimes. If something happened you wouldn’t even know until it was too late.” 

Dean’s heart did something painful in his chest, became both too large and too small at the same time; not for the first time he wished their father was different, just a little, or that he was better, less sick and wrong, that he could be the brother Sam needed. 

“Don’t worry about that crap.” Because I would never let it happen, Dean couldn’t make his mouth say, because I would die before I let anything hurt you. He’d never been great at words. When he needed to show Sam things he’d always done it hands on, guided him with his hands or made a point with actions. It had worked just fine, until Dean couldn’t, wouldn’t, do it anymore. 

But he found he couldn’t stop himself from rolling over and throwing an arm around his brother, from yanking him closer into a one armed hug, from pressing his face to the top of Sam’s head. It was fine, he thought when he felt Sam’s body lose the tension and go soft and lax against him. 

Just this once, it would be fine to stay close.

**Author's Note:**

> More about my daily fic here: https://achraya.tumblr.com/post/636167899484160000/drabble


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